One Last Shot
by HevRev18
Summary: If he can keep her alive long enough then Constance will be safe, the only thing standing in the way of that goal...is Athos. Must d'Artagnan chose the woman he loves over the man who has become his father? *potential spoilers*
1. Chapter 1

**Here is the first chapter of my prediction for part of the final episode of series 1, based on the previews we've been given. As such, it may involve spoilers or may not so read at your own risk ;)**

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He paid no heed to the alarmed cries as he pushed his way past the men and women that walked the evening Parisian streets. Adrenaline rushed through his veins like he had never known, even when he had been fighting for his own life. He pictured her warm smile whenever he paid her compliments, the way her eyes sparkled when she knew he was bending the truth, her shoulders rigid with concern whenever he came home injured... no matter how her words echoed in his mind or how much they had hurt him, he could not fail her. He would sooner die...

_"Blaggard!" the shout stunned the garrison courtyard into silence. The four musketeers turned to see Monsieur Bonacieux marching towards them, his face a vision of indignation. d'Artagnan sighed as he realised the man had probably learned of his wife's infidelity. What a pity that her 'respectable life' was over despite her assertions, the young man couldn't help thinking bitterly to himself._

_"Where is she?!" the enraged cloth merchant snarled when he stopped barely a foot away from d'Artagnan. Athos immediately stepped forward._

_"I suggest you calm down, monsieur," the elder musketeer spoke calmly but laid a hand on the hilt of his sword. Aramis and Porthos smirked at their friend's protective nature._

_"Where is who?" d'Artagnan asked, his chin high. The merchant's eyes narrowed._

_"It's a little late to play the innocent fool, don't you think?" Bonacieux snapped, "you bed my wife for God knows how long and now that she is missing you plead ignorance?" d'Artagnan almost resented the fear that leapt up at those words._

_"Missing?" Aramis enquired with a frown. Upon being addressed by another musketeer, Bonacieux's frown only slightly receded._

_"I was meeting a customer, when I return I find my house in a mess and my wife gone," the man complained and Porthos blinked at him in disbelief. The circumstances he had described matched perfectly to that of a kidnapping and the man was here looking annoyed._

_"Why didn't you alert the guard?" Athos asked, not bothering to hide his disapproval._

_"Because she is undoubtedly hiding out with her lover!" Bonacieux replied before he turned back to d'Artagnan, "I warned her to push you away but clearly that wasn't enough...the cardinal will hear of this!" the man hissed into the musketeer's face until Porthos shoved him back._

_"What business do you have with the cardinal?" the taller man asked. d'Artagnan didn't hear the words of explanation. All his mind could picture was Constance, injured or worse, on her own, the tears in her eyes when he had left for the garrison..._

_"d'Artagnan!" Aramis shouted after him as he began to run. The marksman ran after him. Porthos growled and grabbed Bonacieux by the arm before dragging him along after the pair. No one noticed Athos crouch down to pick up the item Bonacieux had dropped or the way his eyes widened when he opened the golden locket..._

A search of the house had sent ice coursing through d'Artagnan's veins. On Constance's pillow sat a single Forget-Me-Not. The musketeer couldn't understand why his patron would threaten Constance but knowing the dangerous woman was involved was enough for d'Artagnan to fear the worst. It had taken Aramis to point out that Athos was not with them. The absence of their leader made d'Artagnan all the more uneasy. His calm and steadfast nature had always been a comfort to the youngest musketeer and he drew strength from Athos as one would a father.

Knowing they couldn't continue without their brother in arms, the group returned to the garrison, leaving behind Monsieur Bonacieux to slowly realise his wife was in grave danger. When a search of the garrison revealed no Athos but a concerned Captain Treville, the trio moved their search to the musketeer's one room apartment. What they had found pulled most of the remaining puzzle pieces together.

"If he's found her it may already be too late," Porthos commented as he scanned another alleyway. d'Artagnan simply shook his head. He wouldn't believe it until she was dead in his arms.

"Where the hell is he?" the tallest musketeer growled again as the trio scanned every single street corner. Still they found no trace of their comrade or the woman they knew he was hunting. Aramis said nothing and though d'Artagnan was not sure if the older musketeer's knowledge matched his own, he was fairly certain Aramis knew more than Athos had dared to confide. The silver locket and chain was still clutched tightly in the marksman's hand, inside lay the one item that proved how blind their young friend had been all this time...

_"He would not approve of this," Aramis murmured as they faced the door to Athos' room._

_"If we don't find some kind of clue then he won't be alive to complain," d'Artagnan replied, his voice desperate and despite their situation Aramis found his heart warmed at how close the Gascon boy had become to their leader._

_"That's good enough for me," Porthos replied and wrenched the door from its hinges with one well-placed kick. d'Artagnan was the first to enter, immediately approaching the desk and searching through papers scattered there. Aramis glanced at the multitude of empty wine bottles. Porthos noticed leather draped across the room's only chair._

_"He didn't take his uniform," the taller man murmured._

_"But he did take his sword...whatever he's doing, he's not doing it as a musketeer...it's personal," Aramis replied, his eyes without any of their usual wit or confidence, "...and he doesn't want us in the firing line."_

_"Stupid fool!" Porthos quietly cursed. When the pair noted their youngest was silent, they turned to see d'Artagnan with his eyes fixed on the bed. Aramis followed his gaze to see a single locket and chain resting on the pillow. The marksman lifted it from its resting place and carefully opened it. Inside lay a small blue flower._

_"Forget-me-not, unless I'm mistaken..." Aramis noted with a grim expression and they watched the young Gascon turn even more pale._

_"d'Artagnan?" Porthos gently called. Only then did the youngest musketeer meet their eyes._

_"It's her..."_

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**I know in the preview for the final Athos is wearing the chain still but it fitted better in this story for him to have left it there. This story will be at least a two-parter, probably three and will be uploaded before the final episode airs. Hope you all like it, please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to those who are following this story. I hope it doesn't disappoint. Here is part two. At this point I don't expect it to match the real storyline as I haven't included the Athos/d'Artagnan feud shown in the preview. This is my interpretation of their relationship. Enjoy :)**

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The night was closing in and still no sign of the eldest musketeer.

"If the red guards find them first..." Aramis muttered. No one answered him. The thought of finding their leader lying on the floor, a hole in his chest, almost matched fear that already gripped d'Artagnan's heart. The Gascon was silently chastising himself for not making the connection, for not seeing what a horrific web they had all found themselves trapped in. He knew now the signs had all been there...

_The man I loved tried to murder me..._

_She was a cold-blooded murderess, I had her taken from the house and hung from the branch of a tree..._

d'Artagnan could still see the haunted look in Athos' eyes.

_She's not dead, d'Artagnan...she survived..._

He should have known then, he should have remembered the scar around her neck.

_I've clung to the belief that I had no choice..._

All this time, through his association with that woman, he had been betraying Athos without even realising it.

The trio began to notice people hurrying past them, glancing back nervously in the direction the musketeers were marching. d'Artagnan didn't wait to glance at his companions before running towards the slowly building noise. After pushing past the remaining onlookers he froze when he found the cause of their alarm. Held captive in the centre of the town square was Milady de Winter. d'Artagnan immediately raised his pistol to aim at her assailant. Much as he wanted the murderess dead and forever removed from their lives, he needed information first. Aramis and Porthos went rigid at the Gascon's side.

"Release her now!" he barked the order at her aggressor but his heart was slowly sinking when he realised who it was. The man looked strange without his leather uniform but when he lifted his head and d'Artagnan saw the haunted eyes there could be no doubt. Milady attempted to struggle but the arms around her tightened their vice-like hold. The youngest felt his will weakening rapidly. Her captor was the last person on earth d'Artagnan wished it to be.

"Athos..." he whispered but the eldest musketeer would not meet his gaze. Milady obviously sensed d'Artagnan's turmoil as she sought his eyes herself.

"Kill me and she dies," Milady confirmed his fears in a voice that intended to threaten but only sounded desperate. Her gaze darted between the musketeers in front of her but always returned to d'Artagnan. The Gascon's pistol was still aimed at the pair but his resolve felt as fragile as a flower in the wind. It didn't help that Athos wouldn't look at him.

"d'Artagnan, put it down..." Aramis quietly begged.

"He'll kill her," the younger man replied, his voice betraying his torment.

"And you'll kill him to stop that happening?" Porthos snapped. His loyalty resided with Athos, no matter the cost but Aramis couldn't help sympathising with their younger friend. He watched the younger man's heart break over the decision he had been forced into. Were Aramis forced to choose between two loved ones, he was sure the torment would kill him.

"Athos...bring her to trial," he finally spoke, stunning Porthos and d'Artagnan. The eldest musketeer shook his head and tightened his grip.

"I already tried...I sentenced her to hang..." Athos practically growled, "but she escaped and murdered countless people...I won't make that mistake again, she dies here," he brought the dagger closer and Milady struggled desperately but she was feeble against his strength.

"d'Artagnan, **help me!**" she begged. The young man clutched his pistol tighter. Porthos took a warning step.

"I can't let you murder her..." the Gascon cried, his eyes flooded with pain. Only then did Athos finally look at him. Within a second d'Artagnan knew. Athos was aware of what was at stake. No matter the cost, he wouldn't let his heart rule his head and he wouldn't let d'Artagnan make that mistake either.

"This is our duty..." he replied with terrifying certainty, "let her go and you are not a true musketeer."

Aramis inwardly winced at the words. He knew how hard d'Artagnan had tried not just to be a musketeer but one that Athos was proud to have at his side. For the older man to cast that away...Aramis didn't need to look at his young friend to know the pain those words would have caused. The words had indeed shaken d'Artagnan but he read more in the eldest musketeer's eyes. The thought of leaving Constance in further danger caused the bile to rise in his throat...but he couldn't force himself to take the alternative path.

Porthos breathed a loud sigh of relief when the youngest lowered his pistol. Milady snarled in defiance.

"She will die, d'Artagnan!" she cried, "you spill my blood then my men will kill her before the night is over!"

"Yet another innocent dying by your hand," Athos hissed into her ear, "I suppose you believe this one deserves to die as well?"

"What right do you have to judge me?"

"**You murdered my brother!**" Athos roared, stunning his two oldest friends who glanced at each other in confusion, especially when they noticed that d'Artagnan did not share their surprise.

"This is your last chance to save her life, d'Artagnan," she hissed in desperation, "her blood will be on your hands!" d'Artagnan flinched at the accusation and sought the eyes of the one he trusted the most.

"Athos...please..." he begged. Something broke in the older man's eyes.

"The rest of the regiment are on their way, she won't escape," Aramis assured his old friend. This combined with the pain in d'Artagnan's eyes finally persuaded him to lower the dagger just slightly. But this was enough for her. Only the youngest realised what she was about to do when he saw the flash of a knife emerging from her skirt.

"d'Artagnan!" Porthos shouted as the Gascon rushed forward.

"No!" the youngest yelled as the knife surged forward...

And a gunshot pierced the air...

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**Hope you enjoyed the second part, one more to go. Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**So sorry for the wait guys, I had hoped to get this up before the final aired but life had other plans. Wasn't it a great finish? I already have the blue-ray and can't wait for series 2. Thank you so much for the reviews/follows/favourites - hope you enjoy this chapter.**

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_d'Artagnan! ...d'Artagnan!_

_He wondered if he had found himself underwater, sinking under a torrent that made the voices of his friends so weak and distant. The water was cold, any warmth he might have had before was gone. He found no air to fill his lungs. He was drowning, he must be but he couldn't remember how. He couldn't see the surface and would certainly die before he could reach it. He thought of how much he loved her and felt the guilt of leaving his friends behind, so his mind whispered one last prayer...the prayer that they would all find peace, that Athos would not carry the guilt... They had all suffered enough..._

_..._

"He's losing too much blood!" Aramis cried as he pushed desperately against the open wound, his efforts doing little to stop the blood escaping from his youngest brother.

"The surgeon is on the way," Treville told them. Porthos winced when he heard even the Captain's voice coated with concern. The situation was dire. The former thief looked across to where Athos was being treated and cursed the reckless musket shot from the supposed cavalry. The ball that had been intended for Milady and had indeed hit her, now lay imbedded in their friend's shoulder. Treville's order for the regiment to hold their fire had come less than a second too late...

_Porthos understood what the Gascon was about to do but not in time to stop him. As soon as the younger man began to move he cried out to him. There was a commotion behind them and Aramis tore his gaze away to see the new arrivals. Treville had arrived with the rest of the regiment. One of the younger musketeers had clearly seen what d'Artagnan had and raised his musket to fire. Aramis' raised arm and Treville's order to hold were too slow. The musket fired and Porthos saw the shot graze Milady's arm and settle into Athos' shoulder. He made no sound but she screamed, her body shifted towards the impact... her arm changed course... and the blade that had been headed for d'Artagnan's shoulder... now plunged into his chest..._

Porthos could hardly bear to look at Athos' face. He knew the elder musketeer's thoughts. He had seen such a look of self-loathing before but here is was multiplied a thousand fold. The man was suicidal. His gaze would not leave their youngest brother, lying on the floor, his life slowly ebbing away.

None of them bothered to watch Milady being dragged away. They didn't note her pale face as it looked back at d'Artagnan. Her look of confused wonder was seen by no one.

"Hold the skin here and here, we need to close the wound," Porthos turned back to see the surgeon had arrived and was speaking urgently to Aramis before turning to Treville.

"Captain, place your finger here!" Treville immediately complied and plugged the wound in a way Porthos assumed was intended to block the blood flow. At a guess the wound must have been inches away from d'Artagnan's heart. The boy had not coughed up any blood before he fell unconscious so Porthos could only hope that meant his lung was not hit. The tallest musketeer had seen worse wounds survived by their owners but all of those cases had been on a battlefield with surgeons waiting ready behind the lines. It was impossible to guess whether this surgeon had arrived in time. With his shoulder bound, Athos staggered over to the group and collapsed next to d'Artagnan, threading his fingers into the Gascon's hair. He leaned down to whisper words Porthos couldn't hear but the expressions of Aramis and the Captain told him what he needed to know.

Pleas, begs, desperate prayers for the young man to live, to open his eyes and continue to fill the hole in Athos' heart that only he had been able to heal. The two older musketeer's had known of a grief Athos carried with him, of a pain from something other than his lost love. They had not known the cause and never asked but they could see that, somehow, d'Artagnan was slowly taking the pain away. Their leader's spirit lifted with the Gascon's presence. They now knew it was a younger brother he was missing and that the newest musketeer had filled that emptiness, become a younger brother to them all and maybe even a son to Athos.

If they lost d'Artagnan now, they would lose Athos as well.

"...Aramis..." the Captain's voice interrupted every thought around him. They all heard his fear. Aramis met his eyes and held fingers to the younger man's neck.

"His heart has stopped!" he gasped and cries of concern surrounded them as the watching musketeers moved closer.

"Back! Give them some space!" Porthos ordered and they reluctantly complied, still watching as Athos moved to kneel at d'Artagnan's side. Placing two hands over the younger man's chest, he started pushing in a desperate rhythm while Aramis offered words of encouragement. The surgeon bound the stitched wound, his expression grim. Treville moved back, his hands covered in the Gascon's blood. For what felt like hours Porthos and the regiment watched as Athos desperately tried to bring their brother back to life, showing no care for the bandages on his shoulder that were slowly soaking through. He never tired and he never took his eyes from d'Artagnan's face. For the third time he paused just long enough for Aramis to check for life. Just as he was about to begin again Aramis grabbed his arm, his eyes unfocused but filled with shocked relief.

"It's beating!" the marksman gasped. Porthos dropped to his knees.

"Get a stretcher, now!" Treville ordered and two musketeers rushed away. The surgeon sagged with relief but the gazes of Porthos and Aramis were focused on their eldest friend. Athos finally allowed the emotion he had been holding back to escape in an unrestrained flood. Tears fell unchecked from his eyes and his shoulders shuddered with silent sobs in a display of emotion the regiment had never imagined from their most distinguished musketeer. It only heightened their respect. Aramis gripped his shoulder and Athos leaned towards the support.

"This isn't over, he's lost a lot of blood, maybe too much," Aramis reminded them all reluctantly and added his last words as d'Artagnan was moved onto the stretcher.

"All we can do now is get him back to the garrison...and pray he lasts the night."

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**Looks like it's gonna be a four-parter! Hope you enjoyed that, please review!**


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